


Your quaking, shaking, little heart

by unxpctedlygreat (Yurika_Schiffer)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Gronder Dimitri, i guess, some light choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yurika_Schiffer/pseuds/unxpctedlygreat
Summary: A night at the cathedral.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Your quaking, shaking, little heart

Felix’s grip on the fur of his cloak is strong, enough so that Dimitri has to lean down. Oh, he could straighten up all right, and it would force Felix to either come higher or let go. He doesn’t think Felix would let go.

This is the main reason he hasn’t shaken him off like he does everyone else. They all try to talk him into delaying his mission, to forget Enbarr and the Emperor. They’re all blind and naïve. Only the death of that wretched woman could end this war. Nothing else matters.

“Boar!” Felix yells in his face, and Dimitri directs his eye back at him, attention not fully settled on him. Behind Dimitri, Glenn hisses to stop wasting time. Dimitri never truly understood why Glenn seemed to dislike it when he spent time around Felix. Wasn’t he happy to see his little brother? “I’m _right here_ , boar, _look_ at me!” Felix tugs on his cloak. Dimitri looks at him again.

He looks tired. The way he scowls does nothing to help the impression. Is he sleeping enough? They will need his strength to get to that woman. Felix has never been plagued by nightmares like Dimitri is, he should have no trouble sleeping.

“Are you even listening to me?” Felix snarls, and before Dimitri knows it he has reached out to touch. Felix freezes under his hand.

Dimitri rubs a thumb under Felix’s eye, looks at the dark circles there. Felix’s grip on his cloak weakens, though his hand stays in the furs.

“You should sleep more,” he says. His step-mother chides him for his childish care. She’s never liked how much attention he used to pay to Felix.

Felix scoffs and attempts to swat his hand away, but Dimitri isn’t so easily moved. Not when Felix’s skin feels scalding under his cold hand, a warmth he’d almost forgotten. His skin isn’t the softest, Dimitri knows, but under his monstrous hands, further roughened by fights and a life on the run, it feels almost so.

“I sleep more than you do, boar,” Felix says, glaring at him. He doesn’t add anything after that, so Dimitri brings his other hand up to cup his cheek.

This is the warmest his hands have been in years.

He slides them down Felix’s neck, his skin warmer still thanks to his fur-lined hood. Several voices, the knights that were with him in Duscur, shout at him to tighten his hold, to press the flesh until only blood remains in his hands. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t listen.

Felix’s hand has fallen back to his side. He’s no longer holding his cloak. Dimitri is free to disengage from this conversation, if it can be called such. He doesn’t.

“Stop that,” Felix grumbles when Dimitri gets a hand behind his neck and tips his chin up with the other. He’s frowning but not glaring at Dimitri’s face, and he doesn’t do anything to remove himself from Dimitri’s hold.

Obedient. Pliant. An easy prey for the boar he claims to hate.

But Dimitri knows better. Has always known better. Try as he might, Felix has never been able to hide it, not from Dimitri. Heart wide open, free for all to see.

When they were younger, Felix never shied away from showing his affection. Even after Duscur, before the rebellion in the west, he would be so open, so obvious about his affections for Dimitri. Dimitri shamefully never responded to these affections, torn as he were by his duty to the dead and his duties as prince. He lost the occasion, after that. Not that his father and step-mother complained; they’d always thought Felix to be a liability, a distraction from his goal.

“Hey, stop spacing out,” Felix snaps, still within Dimitri’s hold. Unmoving, trusting. He’s keenly aware of Dimitri’s strength. He allegedly distrusts Dimitri, believes him to be beast more than man. And yet.

He moves his hand from Felix’s neck and brushes away the hair falling into his eyes. The hand at his chin, he lowers until it wraps nicely around Felix’s pale, unguarded throat. He hears the hitch in Felix’s breathing and feels the way he swallows under his palm. Felix is a fool for ever letting his guard down. Even more so in front of a beast like Dimitri.

Not that Dimitri can fault him. He is, after all, the reason Felix is such a fool.

He tightens his grip on Felix’s throat, feels his heartbeat picking up until it’s rapid-fire. Felix’s hands come up to grab at his arm but Dimitri feels none of the strength he knows Felix possesses. Pliant, once again, even as Dimitri presses his windpipe close. Or perhaps he knows Dimitri too well. Knows Dimitri wouldn’t hurt him, even with the screams of the dead demanding he does.

Dimitri lets him go. He turns around, listening to the choked breaths Felix takes as air finds his lungs again. Listens, then, to the quick retreating steps of him as he leaves the cathedral and Dimitri behind for the night.

The memory of Felix’s heart beating under his palm is already fading, pushed away from his mind by the demands of his father and the others. But for a moment, Dimitri feels it again in his hand and cherishes the knowledge.

Low as he may fall, he will never be alone.


End file.
